Traveling Town Mystery Boxset

by Ami Diane

  “Ow, Wink, that’s my foot.”

  “Well, don’t step in front of me.”

  “Then don’t move so slow.”

  Ella motioned for them to keep quiet. “You want to be a little louder? I don’t think they can hear you up in the ISS.”

  “What’s the ISS?” Flo asked.

  “International Space Station.”

  Flo stopped in her tracks, causing Wink to plow into her. “There’s a space station?” Her voice carried across the still night like a foghorn.

  Ella whipped her head towards the cabin and froze. Her breath stopped, and she was pretty sure her heart did too.

  After several tense seconds, when it seemed Six hadn’t heard them, Ella released the air from her lungs and glared at Flo.

  One of the doors on the dilapidated barn hung at an angle she was sure wasn’t intentional—unless the builder had suddenly gone crosseyed. In which case, it looked just fine.

  She slipped into the inky blackness inside and nearly choked on the pungent odor of manure and hay. Flo and Wink joined her, and both began to gag.

  Air slipped through wide cracks between the slats that made up the wall but did little to alleviate the God-awful smell.

  Ella had been in barns before, been around livestock before, but this took that marked scent to a whole new level.

  Six had clearly thought maintaining stalls was a mere suggestion. Either that or an elephant lived there. She felt sorry for any animal living in this excuse for a barn.

  But that was about to change.

  A soft neigh came from a stall five yards away. Her plan had worked so well with the sheriff’s horse, she figured, why reinvent the wheel?

  She motioned for the others to keep quiet before fumbling with the latch. Once freed, she tugged open the stall door.

  The horse—a beautiful buckskin—reared its head and backed into the depths of the stall. His hooves made sucking noises as they sank in several inches of mud and manure.

  Ella held out her hand, trying to coax the majestic beast forward. Her initial plan rested on the assuredness that the animal would make a break for freedom—it hinged on this fact.

  “Come on,” she whispered.

  The horse whinnied loudly.

  “He’s not moving,” Flo said helpfully.

  “Hadn’t noticed.” Ella squinted towards the back of the stall. “Why don’t you go in and give him a little encouragement.

  “Oh no. You’re not getting me anywhere near its rear. My grandfather got kicked in the face. Never saw straight after that.”

  “Wink?”

  The diner owner made a grand gesture to her outfit, emphasizing her footwear.

  Ella did a double take. “Why on earth are you wearing heels? You walked all the way here in those?”

  “They were the only black shoes I had.”

  Ella silently counted to five then inched forward herself. Her running shoes squashed two inches into the muck.

  Pulling her shirt up over her nose, she extended a hand and crept towards the horse’s backside. She was no horse expert, but she knew enough to not stand directly behind it.

  She approached what she was calling the backside-side and tapped the soft surface as she had with Chapman’s Appaloosa. The animal didn’t so much as flick its tail.

  She poked it, this time receiving a snort.

  “Growing old here,” Flo said from the other, more appealing end of the horse.

  “You’re already there,” Wink retorted.

  Ella grew bolder and nudged it. When that failed, she pushed, but the beast may as well have been a wall. “Anyone know how to move a horse?”

  “Sure,” Wink said. “Flo, get some hay.”

  “Why do I have to get it?”

  “Fine,” Wink said with an exasperated sigh. “I’ll get it.”

  Ella heard Wink trip around in the dark, moving deeper into the barn. When she didn’t immediately return, Flo took to humming show tunes as off-key as possible. After Ella asked her to keep her voice down so Six didn’t overhear, she took to pestering Ella about the ISS.

  “They probably built it so they could have a meeting place for the aliens, you know, out of the prying eyes of the public.”

  “Yes. That must be why.” Ella shifted her weight from foot to foot. She could no longer smell the manure underfoot which she found disconcerting.

  Wink’s voice cut through the darkness. “Couldn’t find any hay.”

  “What? Seriously?” Ella stared at the animal in front of her—mostly its backside because she hadn’t moved.

  “Just give it a good tap on its hindquarters,” Flo suggested. “It’s what they do in the movies.”

  “You mean its backside-side? I already tried that.”

  “Hindquarters,” Flo repeated, drawing out the word like she was talking to a six-year-old.

  Ella eyed the hindquarters skeptically and muttered, “I like my word better.”

  After much deliberating, she stepped sideways, closer to its tail and gave the horse’s flank a generous pat.

  She’d expected it to react, make some sort of vocalization, and trot out of the stall like a perfectly good horse. What she hadn’t expected was for it to whinny like it’d been shot, kick it’s back legs out through the side of the barn, and retreat further back, all while knocking Ella over.

  She landed with a nice splat in a soft pile of excrement and let out a scream that came out a gurgle due to her mouth being inches from the manure.

  “Ella!” Wink’s silhouette appeared at the stall door. “Are you alright?”

  It took Ella a few shuddering breaths to be able to find her voice. “No. But I’m not hurt.”

  She bit her lip to keep her mouth closed. She could taste the manure. Taste it. Her gag reflex kicked in, and she was grateful no one could see her.

  “Are you throwing up?” Flo asked.

  “What? No.” Ella wiped her mouth.

  Wink’s voice was urgent. “Come on! There’s no way Six didn’t hear that.”

  Ella started. In her manure-filled horror, she’d forgotten about the outlaw.

  Her heartbeat drummed in her ears as she did her best Michael Phelps impression and swam for safety. What started out as progress deteriorated when she slipped, limbs flailing, and made a perfectly formed poop angel.

  Somewhere outside, a screen door slapped open then closed. Through the slats, Ella saw a shadow pass over the windows of the cabin.

  “I think he’s coming,” she rasped as she rolled onto the dry ground at Flo’s feet, fighting the urge to kiss the excrement-free ground.

  Wink had stationed herself near a hole in the boards. “I don’t think so. He’s walking around his house.”

  “We should go.” Ella made a move for the door, but Wink stopped her. If they went out the front, Six would see them. They had to find another exit.

  “Let him find us.” Flo ripped open her jacket and pulled out something long and dark.

  Ella stopped mid-search for an exit. “Oh my God. Is that—is that a Tommy Gun? You brought a Tommy Gun?!” She tried to keep her voice down but with each passing moment, it became more shrill.

  “Wink said, ‘bring a gun,’ so I bought a gun.” Flo struggled to keep the gun aloft with her soft arms. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

  “Wh-what? You do. You’ve got my panties in a twist with your freaking bazooka!”

  “It’s not a bazooka.” She seemed far too disappointed by this fact. “It’s just like the one Bonnie and Clyde had.”

  “It didn’t work out so well for them,” Wink pointed out from her post.

  Yes,” Ella said, “yes, thank you, Wink. It didn’t work out well for them at all.” Her voice had risen a whole octave now.

  She glanced over at Wink while her hands went back to groping along the wall, finding nothing but ropes and sharp pointy things. “Why aren’t you more upset by this? I feel like you should be more upset.”

  “Used to it, I guess. J
ust be grateful she didn’t bring her howitzer.”

  Ella’s mouth worked back and forth like a fish sucking air, and she rounded on the large outline wielding a deadly weapon. “You—you have a howitzer? Like the heavy artillery militaries use? The ones that look like cannons?”

  Flo’s chest inflated, but before she could answer, Wink said, “We’ve got bigger fish to fry. He’s coming this way. Hurry!”

  Since there was nowhere to run, they scrambled for a place to hide. Just as they leaped into an adjacent stall, the barn door squealed open.

  Ella tensed and held her breath. The jangle of spurs broke the silence followed by Six’s throaty drawl.

  “Who’s there?”

  CHAPTER 22

  SIX STOOD IN the doorway, a black shape against freckles of stars. “Anybody there? Come on out. Ain’t gonna hurt you much. Just put a couple of holes in you.”

  The click of his revolver bit the air.

  Ella’s whole body went rigid. On one side of her, Wink tensed, while on the other, Flo’s hand was searching for the trigger on her own weapon.

  Ella reached over and covered the woman’s veiny hand. It wasn’t that she didn’t want her shooting at Six, it was that the gun was currently backward, the barrel pointing behind them.

  Six’s spurs jangled like loose change with each step, marching a rhythm that matched Ella’s heart, beat for beat.

  Should they make a run for it? There was only one of him and three of them—two of which were handicapped by either footwear or an alarming lack of fitness. So, his chances of shooting them were still high.

  She looked over at Wink, trying to pierce the darkness with her silent question. Wink’s head dipped in a nod.

  With slow, silent movements, Ella situated into a crouch, her legs coiled with tension, ready to sprint.

  She pulled in a breath. The outlaw was only five yards away.

  Meanwhile, her hands moved over their surroundings, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon—besides the Tommy Gun on her left.

  Three yards.

  Her hands found neither a sharp nor a blunt object, but what they did find was hay. Lots and lots of hay.

  One yard.

  The clink of his boots stopped.

  Ella froze. She could hear Six breathing.

  Any moment, he would peek over the stall door and spot them. If they moved now, they had the element of surprise. Also, she was concerned that if she waited, Flo would take matters into her own hands.

  Ella gritted her teeth and flung herself at the stall door.

  Two things happened simultaneously.

  As the door hit Six with the force of a hurricane, the buckskin startled and finally bolted out of its stall, colliding with the cowboy a second after the door did.

  Six became a heap on the ground, the horse towering over him.

  “Whoa, Duke. Easy. How’d you get out?”

  But Duke, the horse, would hear none of it. He reared again then vaulted over the outlaw and made a mad dash for freedom. Duke’s hooves thundered over the ground as he fled, carrying on like a bat out of hell.

  Six scrambled to his feet and chased after the horse, yelling obscenities. The barn grew oddly still.

  Wink picked dirt off her shawl. “Well, that worked out well.”

  Ella looked over and blinked. Flo’s gun hung limply at her side, her shoulders drooping. “I didn’t get to use my gun.”

  “Gee, that’s too bad.” Ella patted her on her back. “Maybe we can do some target practice with it later.” A lot of target practice.

  Flo’s back straightened, and her beehive swung back and forth like a dog wagging its tail.

  “Well?” Wink said, moving towards the stall door. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get to snooping.”

  “What?” Ella said. “Are you serious? That was too close of a call.”

  “That? That was nothing. And circumstances haven’t changed. Rose is still a suspect, isn’t she?”

  “I guess so.” Ella kicked the ground and moved towards the door, her shoes shuffling over the soft surface of straw.

  “Hay,” Flo said loudly.

  Ella gave her a once-over, growing more uncertain of the woman’s frame of mind. “Hey, yourself.”

  “No, idiot. Hay.” Her hand swept over the ground then to the corner of the stall, a few feet from where they’d been hiding. Ella turned on her phone’s light and directed the beam over stacks and stacks of hay.

  “Well, that’s useful.” She turned off the light, sighed, and headed for the barn door.

  The two women trailed behind her.

  “Didn’t you check that stall?” Flo asked Wink. “It was literally across from us.”

  “I did. But if you hadn’t noticed, it’s dark.”

  “Not too dark to see a mountain of hay. I saw it.”

  Ella shushed them as they stepped outside, unsure of Six’s current location. Hopefully, Duke had lured him far, far away. Across the border would be helpful. The night air sent goosebumps up her arms as she strained to hear either man or horse.

  It took a great deal of effort to get her two accomplices to be quiet long enough, but finally, Ella heard a faint whinny followed by shouts from somewhere deep in the apple trees.

  With the coast clear, they stole towards the cabin at last. Ella pressed her back against the smooth logs. Her ears pricked at the smallest of sounds.

  Something crashed into a bush. Ella whipped her head around. Bending low, Flo fished out her gun.

  “Oops.” As the older woman grasped the weapon, she lingered, her nostrils working as she sniffed the air. “Poop.”

  Wink let out a disgusted noise. “What?”

  “I smell poop.”

  “We just came from a barn,” Wink replied.

  Ella moved away from Flo. “I don’t smell anything.”

  “It literally smells like we’re standing in horse sh—”

  “Well, we’re not,” Wink snapped. “Honestly, I think you’ve lost it sometimes.”

  “How can you not smell that? I can practically see it, it’s so strong.”

  While the two bickered over the source of the smell and whether or not they should burn their clothes after this, Ella stood on tiptoes at Six’s window.

  She had expected to see a dilapidated, trashed-out interior, full of dust and clutter, but was surprised to find the living quarters clean and sparse. The lodging consisted of a single room with a mattress for a bed, a table and chair, and a blackened fireplace. A couple of candles burned on the table, giving the weak illumination they’d seen from the lane.

  A small lean-to was attached at the north side of the cabin. Judging by the many holes in the structure and the smell wafting out, her guess was it had to be an outhouse. She made a point of blaming it on the source of the smell.

  Looking over the interior, Ella wondered what their next move could be. If there was any evidence connecting Six to the break-in, it wasn’t observable from her perch outside.

  “We could go in,” Wink suggested.

  “Then we’d be breaking and entering.”

  Flo’s face lit up. “So?”

  Ella opened her mouth then stopped, considering it. They were already trespassing.

  She glanced back inside the cabin, her eyes catching on the table shoved against the opposite wall. “Maybe we won’t have to. Follow me.”

  Without waiting for a response, Ella traipsed around to the backside of the cabin, her two friends tripping their way after her.

  Unlike the windows on the front of the cabin, this one was higher, but it was also perfectly positioned over the table.

  “I need a boost,” she said.

  Both women stared at her.

  “Why you?” Flo’s lower lip jutted out. “I want to see. It’s my turn.”

  “If we hoist you up,” Wink said, “we’d be in back braces for weeks.”

  Flo gave Wink the bird.

  Ella feared Six would be back soon and pleaded with t
hem. After a little more deliberation and name-calling, they relented.

  Weaving their fingers together, their hands became a base that Ella could step on.

  “Higher,” she whispered.

  Wink groaned, and Flo made a squealing noise that wasn’t unlike a balloon slowly deflating as they lifted Ella higher. As she rose unsteadily, Ella was forced to use both sets of hair as holds to steady herself.

  On closer inspection, “furniture” would be too generous of a word to describe the pile of sticks joined by straps of leather that made up the table and chair directly beneath her now.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Flo hissed, “why do you smell like a sewer?”

  Ella ignored her and dug her manure-covered sneaker in to get higher. This resulted in Flo’s hands sagging and her complaining about the stench kicking up a notch.

  Papers and manilla folders littered the scratched surface of the table. Ella pressed her nose to the glass, her breath fogging up the surface.

  Familiar, elegant cursive writing filled the smattering of papers. It tickled her brain, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen the penmanship before.

  On closer inspection, the leafs of loose paper weren’t letters like she’d thought. They were formatted more like journal entries, or a log of some kind, with dates posted in the margins.

  Ella turned her attention to the folders to see if she could read the tabs. That’s when she caught the pink nail polish stain pooled in the bottom, left corner of nearly every one.

  She let out a small gasp. She’d done it, she’d found the missing link between Six and the break-in.

  “What?” Flo’s hands gave out, and Ella toppled over, landing on Wink.

  The diner owner flailed about like she was covered in bees. “Get off! You’re getting poop all over me!”

  Ella rolled off, pouring apologies out of her mouth in an endless stream, ending with, “It’s Flo’s fault.”

  “Is not! I can’t help it if you weigh too much.”

  Wink struggled to her feet. “She’s half your size! And maybe if you used those arms to lift more than ice cream, you could’ve held her up!”